Of Righteous and Wicked Men
by Southern Spell
Summary: "Heaven demanded the Righteous Man to submit and Hell had long since laid claim to the Wicked Man." It's the same story that's been passed down for genorations.
1. Of Legend, Myth and Folklore

A/N: Sad to say, Supernatural is not mine.

"We've all heard the stories right?" Ross says, using a knuckle to push his glasses up his nose.

_"In the end there was a Righteous Man and a Wicked Man. Neither wanted to be either."_

It's the same story that's been passed down for generations that Ross recites from memory. It's like Noah and his Arch, everyone knows the story.

_"When Heaven lost faith, Hell rose up, and the Earth was a battle ground. _

_Heaven demanded the Righteous Man to submit and Hell had long since laid claim to the Wicked Man. Both resisted. _

_In the end of the end, the Wicked Man overcame and the Righteous Man would not succumb._

_With an unconditional love and an uncompromising will they beat Hell and Heaven."_

Cash wonders if there is a point to this.

"But," Ross contiues, "like any other story from the Bible, is there any truth to it? Most believe the story of the Righteous Man and the Wicked Man that is found in the Bible to be a very shorten version of the Winchesters Gospel. However, the original works of the Winchester Gospel are incomplete at best since most copies have been lost and historians have only been able to piece together what they could find in the last few hundred years.

"The biggest question is, were the Winchester's in fact, real? Or were they a personification of Mankind's struggle? Well I've done some research on the topic and from what the records and reports of that time when their story supposedly takes place I've find-"

"Ross, the point?" Cash cuts the man off. There's things that need to be done before dark. The camp needs to be secured foremost, a head count, he needed to see what supplies the camp was running low on, so they could be secured tomorrow, appoint teams to go out and find said needed supplies, and the list goes on and on. The last thing Cash needs is a religious history lesson, he just doesn't have the time or patience.

"The point is, they managed to defeat Hell once. Why not again?" Ross sees he's losing the camp's leader, and hurries on. "I think I found a way to bring them back. I was doing some research and I came across a summons that would bring them back-"

"Bring _who_ back?" Ross asks, impatiently.

"Winchesters. Haven't you been paying any attention?"

"Ross." Cash says, having decided he's wasted enough time."They aren't real. Never were." He stares at his friend, thinking the scholar has finally succumbed to madness. The man certainly wouldn't have been the first. The times they lived in, with demons around every corner, and the King of Hell's region over the Earth, it's enough to drive even the strongest to insanity.

"I have proof that suggests that they were!" Ross insists. "I'll need a little more time-"

"No." Cash decides to stop this before it goes any farther. "We can't waste resources on a maybe."

"No resources would be wasted, and this is _more_ than just a maybe." Ross argues. "All I need is more time, and if I'm successful it'll change _everything_."

"Time isn't something we have a lot of," Cash reminded him firmly. The average human life span was tragically short, shorter still if the person's sole focus wasn't on survival. "And you are a resource, so wasting your time trying bring to life a myth that isn't real instead of trying to find ways to better protect the camp from attacks _is_ wasting resources."

The tone was harsh, and it cut Ross, but Cash needed to get it through the other man's head. This wasn't some game, and they couldn't pin anything on a maybe.


	2. Awake

"_You don't have a soul. You _are _a soul; you _have_ a body." -_C.S. Lewis

An odd sensation woke Castiel from his Slumber. It felt as though he was being pulled.

And apparently he was, because before he could even gather his wits, his essence was being settled into the flesh of a vessel.

Closing his eye he, looked in, at the Soul that he was sharing this body with. In his mind's eye he stood, appearing in image of his last vessel, Jimmy, confronting the one that had called upon him.

The Soul who had done the Summons stared open mouthed at him. The Soul is a man of slight build, glasses, and mused red hair that looked as though he'd run his hands through it repeatedly. "It worked." He breathed in disbelief.

Castiel blinked, and then spoke. "How dare you wake me." Anger was quickly rising to the forefront of the multitude of emotions that swirled in him. He'd gone to Sleep, washing his hands of the world and all it entailed. The apocalypse, the Leviathans, it had been enough. All he'd wanted was peace.

"We need help." The Soul explains, either too stupid to be afraid or too desperate. "I'm sorry but we need your help. I don't know if you know, but the King of Hell, he's taken over the world. We-mankind isn't going to last much longer if something doesn't change." The man stares openly at him, his brows drawing down in confusion. "I thought there were two of you."

Castiel just stares at the Soul, not understanding.

There is a hesitation, before the Soul asks "So which one are you? Dean or Sam?"

"I am neither." Castiel's anger takes a backseat to his confusion. The King of Hell rules the world? Was Crowley still the King? What did this man know of the brothers?

A number of emotions play across the man's face. Surprise, confusion, worry, distrust. "Then who are you?" He asks slowly, carefully.

"I am Castiel. An angel of the Lord."

Shock renders the Soul motionless. "An angel?" The whisper is reverent. The Soul gives himself a visible shake. "I don't understand. I was trying to summon Dean and Sam Winchester."

Castiel isn't surprised that he's been awakened now. He'd set himself up to be the guardian of the two brothers souls', their first line of defense, even in his Sleep. "What do you want of the Winchesters?"

"Help. We need help." Desperation return's to the Soul's eyes. Then he explained to Castiel. A little over a century ago the King of Hell had over run the earth with those of his ilk, and was quickly wiping out mankind, only allowing enough to live to keep his legions entertained. This Soul was from one of the very last camps in North America. It was believed that theirs was a lost cause. After all, even Heaven had fallen. He'd hoped to Summon the two warriors of the past, believing that they were the answer.

"Will you help us?" The Soul asked, hope lighting his face.

Castiel only looked at the Soul.

Hope withered and died on the Soul's features at Castiel's lack of response.

"What is your name?" Castiel asks instead.

"Ross." The Soul answers quietly.

Castiel vanishes without warning, leaving Ross alone in his body, wanting to see for himself, if Ross spoke the truth.


	3. The Best Lack All Conviction

_"The best lack all conviction."- The Second Coming, By: W.B. Yeats_

"What's the point?" Ross asks.

A little taken aback, Cash isn't sure he heard the man right. "Come again?"

"What's the point? The King of Hell? He's already won. It's just a matter of time until they wipe us off the planet. What's the point in fighting the unstoppable?"

"As opposed to what?" Anger washes over Cash. "Laying down and dying?" He takes a moment to reign in his emotions, because letting them get the better of him won't help the situation. It's a lesson he's learned the hard way. "Look, I don't know what this is about." He gives Ross a hard look, referring to his friend's bleak disposition as of late. "What I do know is that we need you to do your damn job. This camp needs to be maintained. The people in it are depending on us to do that, and the least we deviate from the routine, the more normal things are, the safer everyone feels the less chaotic they act and the better off we all are."

Ross doesn't say anything, just turns back to the dusty tome in front of him. Something's wrong, Cash has never heard Ross talk like that or look so hopeless. But he doesn't have to time to deal with it, because it's like he said, the camp needed maintaining.

* * *

No one's seen Ross in close to three weeks. They spend a week searching for him, longer than they normally would have looked for someone, because for one, he's the camp's scholar (which is a blanket term, since Ross is responsible for so much in the camp: research, teaching what kids there are, keeping a written account of what takes place in the camp, and so forth) and simply because he's Cash's last real friend.

Cash hopes he's dead, because the alternative is he's possessed.


	4. Possession

He found the brothers in the same secluded corner of Heaven where he'd left them. Tucked safely away from all that transpired while they spent their eternity together.

It turns out things were as Ross had said. The situation wasn't just bad but desperate. Heaven had been untouched, but it's army of angels gone, with no trace, no clue as to what had happened to them.

The brothers weren't going to be easy to convince, but with no one else to turn to Castiel needed their help.

* * *

Castiel watched Dean roll his shoulders, trying to adjust to the new body. It wasn't his own, but it had been the best Castiel could come up with.

Steel gray eyes, instead of green meet Castiel's. "I can feel this guy still in here." Dean complained. "It's giving me the creeps."

"Yeah, Cas, isn't there another way?" Sam brushes blonde hair out of his eyes.

"No. Your bodies have long ago turned to dust. You must make due for now."

"You're sure they were willing?" Sam asks for the third time.

"Yes." Castiel responds was short.

"We're freaking possessing people." Dean mutters grumpily, then pauses as he notices something, before a grin erupts on his borrowed face.

"What?" Sam looks down checking to make sure everything about the body he's in is in order.

"I'm taller than you."


End file.
